“Ah!!!” A blood-curling scream makes Jiang Yuan hold on tightly to her tableware.

She is about to rush up the stairs when Han Liuhai stops her. “What are you doing? They may be doing… that.”

She tries to listen but she thinks it’s highly improbable despite wanting to believe otherwise. Liuhai’s face is overflowing with pride as he raises his hand to cover his mouth. Grinning, he says, “Yeah, right. I’m just old and confused!”

Jiang Yuan obediently sits back down. “Our son is really powerful to make An Chuxia scream that loud.”

“Wife… .” Han Liuhai helplessly stares at his wife. She

and the surrounding servants are clutching their their mouths, laughing.

“What did you say?” Han Qilu asks offhandedly despite her thinking he’s got a look that could kill. A dead girl can’t open her eyes and not scream at first glance. After all, he’s not a ghost!

“Hey, hey!” He grins.

She replies, “I just didn’t think of your handsome face appearing when I opened my eyes. I was startled.”

“Don’t be.” Her words sound sweet to his ears, but it makes him feel peculiar. It seems like she’s changed. She used to be cold to the point she couldn’t wait for him to leave her sight. Now, she’s the epitome of

of a good wife. To him, that’s not a good sign.

I didn’t see it. “Well, how is your neck?” His eyebrows pinch. He tries to subdue his anger within. Picking up a mirror, he shows her her neck. “I don’t think you did this to yourself.”

Why is she so miserable? There are a few strawberry tattoos running down her neck. Would he believe it if she said she tried to put the marks on her own neck?

“This… that… this is just a small accident.” If the truth comes out, Kang Wen will be injured. That kid will die without a burial. Han Qilu won’t lose face by having someone else

someone else kiss his fiancée despite not liking her. Why? Because he hasn’t even had her! Really!

“Oh, this young master really wants to know how this accident happened.” Han Qilu stares her in the face while his whole body radiates hostility. She looks straight at him, clutching the cotton quilt against her.

Her lips twitch. Having always been righteous, it’s killling her not to say anything as she lays in his bed.

She takes a deep breath. “Would you believe whatever I say?”

He’s stunned momentarily before calmly nodding. “As long as you convey your thoughts, I’ll believe you.” This is rather clever if she says it’s not from a good friend.

Who cares if
friend.

Who cares if it is or isn’t from a good friend. This is not the the Anti-Japanese war movement. No devil comes to good people, really!

“Would you believe me if I said I did it on my own?” she asks. Even the ghosts in her head don’t believe the demon. Who would buy her excuse?

He stares at her deeply and says, “I would.”

“I’m f**king with you, ah! I’m lying to you!” She says, giving into her conscience as she shouts and grabs Han Qilu by the shoulder. “Are you that much of an idiot? Clearly, I lied. Shouldn’t your response to me be a slap on the face?”

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